He spins the steering wheel, doing an immediate U-turn.
We cheer in the back, high-fiving like idiots.
My cheeks ache from smiling so wide. I’m with my friends, and soon I’ll be reunited with my sister. Everyone that I care about is here with me. Except for Spider and Knox, whose loyalty lies with Ender. They wouldn’t approve of this deranged plan, for fear that it would enrage their cold leader.
This might actually be my best birthday yet.
Ender’s house is more secure than a vault. There are capital enforcers at every exit and entrance. Cameras rotate at every corner like clockwork. It comforts me that Mercy is protected here, but getting her out is going to be a bitch.
“Let’s review the plan,” I say. “Flint is going to pretend to be Ender.”
Flint shifts. His face morphs into Ender’s like a second skin. High cheekbones, cold, ghost-pale eyes, and that perpetually severe mouth stare back at me. The resemblance makes my spine prickle.
“I’m Ender,” Flint says, voice dropping into that familiar cadence. “And we’re visiting your sister.”
“Perfect,” I say. “The rest of you wait out here for our return. You’re our getaway vehicle.”
“This officially tops the dumb pranks we used to pull on my dad,” Gray mutters. “This is borderline suicidal.”
Gray drops us a few feet away from the gates.
“Good luck,” he says.
I step out and walk with Flint to the compound. I hope they don’t find it weird that Ender isn’t driving.
“Remember to glower and act entitled,” I whisper. “If you’re nice or smile, they’ll know something’s up.”
“I spend every day around him,” Flint says dryly. “I’ve got this.”
Two enforcers straighten instantly at our approach. The second their gaze lands on Flint, their eyes grow wide with fear.
“We weren’t expecting you today, sir,” one says carefully. “You usually come on Fridays.”
Flint doesn’t respond. He just stares them down. The guard pales and immediately begins unlocking the gate.
I squeeze Flint’s hand in encouragement, biting back a grin. That was so good. He spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
We move upstairs quickly, and I knock lightly on Mercy’s door.
“Come in,” she says softly.
I fling the door open.
“Happy birthday, loser!”
Mercy shrieks and launches herself at me, wrapping her arms tight around my neck.
“Happy birthday, twin,” she breathes. “I missed you.”
“Me too.”
“We’re breaking you out,” I say, already heading for her closet.
I grimace at the row of conservative dresses. All of them are either ankle or knee length.
“What are you, forty-five?” I ask aghast. “Nothing here screams twentieth birthday party.”
Mercy glances nervously at Ender. “Can we have a moment alone?”
